The Librarian's Club
by Lossenrhos
Summary: It is the summer after Lily and James' fifth year. When James learns that the Ministry is hushing up a series of attacks targeting Muggle borns he sets out to warn Lily. They and their friends form a club to inform other muggle borns of the danger.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Thanks to Lone Astronomer, Dancing in Magic and CornedBee for beta!

Chapter One- Ball Gowns and Burnt Toast

_Tap, tap, tap._

"Go 'way," Lily muttered, screwing her eyes shut and trying to find the thread of the dream which had been so rudely snapped short.

_Tap, tap, tap._

"Urgh."

Lily gave up, rolling onto her bed and opening her eyes, expecting to see the familiar canopy of scarlet velvet above her. Instead a blank white ceiling stared back at her. Lily jerked upright, her heart pounding. This wasn't her room at HogwartsIt was too small and dark, dim light suffusing from the window opposite. Even the bed felt unfamiliar. Then a soft chiming met her ears, as the curtains of her room billowed. It was a cheerful sound, soothing and familiar. And suddenly Lily shook her head and laughed. Of course! How could she have forgotten? That was her wind chime; the one Petunia had given her for her birthday years ago. She was at home!

_Tap, tap, tap._

Then where was that tapping coming from?

Lily pulled herself to her feet, drawing the curtain aside. A flurry of grey wings flashed before her eyes, and a sharp curving beak.

TAP TAP TAP.

Hastily Lily opened the window wider. The owl fluttered onto her bed, giving Lily a cold glance with its fish scale grey eyes and gave a resentful hoot.

"Well, you shouldn't have come so early if you didn't want to have to wait," Lily said, annoyed. "It's six o' clock in the morning!"

The owl merely blinked at her. Lily sighed and dug out her purse.

"Here you go," she pulled out her purse, putting a Knut in the owls pouch and pulling the newspaper off its leg. "And if you want a tip, come at a reasonable time. _I'm_ not nocturnal!"

The owl gave a very disapproving hoot and took off. _Stupid ball of feathers. _Lily unrolled the newspaper.

_Another Murder in the Ministry._

_Yet another mysterious murder in the Department of Muggle Relations has left the Magical Law Enforcement Squad baffled. Albert Hartley, outspoken opponent of the Purist movement was found dead yesterday at his flat in Ealing. Albert Jugson, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement today said that claims that the extremist group "The Death Eaters" were involved was "entirely unsubstantiated" and claimed that "Mr Hartley was most likely the victim of a petty robbery"._

Lily dropped the paper to the floor, leaning back on her bed. Could it be true? she wondered. Had those Death Eaters really just got away with another murder? Lily remembered Narcissa Black's words on the journey home. "_Just you wait. It won't be long. No one can stop him now…"_

Rubbish, Lily thought. Men like that – people like that – couldn't gain power. They'd be stopped. Probably half of it was just scare mongering, bullies like Narcissa trying to frighten anyone. Well, Lily wasn't frightened. She wasn't going to be chased out of her world- for yes, it _was _her world- by those creeps. She looked quietly around her lightening room, the old stuffed toys and flowered wallpaper. How strange not to have recognized her own home this morning. It gave her an eerie feeling, as if the morning, the newspaper, everything was conspiring to remind her of how she was caught between two worlds. She had become used to this world of wizards and magic, and now it seemed not to want her any more. Well, tough, Lily thought. She would _not_ be scared away by a bunch of stupid rumours.

Lily sighed, shaking her head, and pulled on her dressing gown. Shaking her hair out of her face, she padded down the stairs into the kitchen.

To her surprise, she found it was not unoccupied. Petunia, dressed in what appeared to be a long pink ball gown, was making coffee and humming to herself.

"Good morning," she said cheerfully.

Lily blinked at her sister, wondering if she could be dreaming after all, and whether that incongruously bright pink dress, and still stranger the bright smile on her sister's face, were merely the elements of a deranged subconscious.

"G-good morning," Lily said at last.

"Dear me, you look _awful," _Petunia said with evident relish. Evidently, thought Lily, the lack of ball gowns at six thirty in the morning was detrimental to Lily's appearance.

"Oh," said Lily. Then deciding to divert the conversation onto a more comprehensible plane, "Is that coffee?"

"Yes," said Petunia, looking at the coffee pot with a fond smile playing over her face.

"Umm …. D'you think I could have some?"

Petunia looked taken aback. "Oh, well, yes, I suppose so."

Lily poured herself a cup. She took a large swallow of the liquid and nearly spat it straight out again. It was stone cold.

"Good?" asked Petunia absently.

"Umm," said Lily. Then, deciding she could avoid the question no longer, she asked, "Why are you wearing your ball gown? Are you going out?" Petunia tinkled a laugh.

"_Going out_? Why would _I_ be going out?" she said, sounding as though it was the most ridiculous suggestion she had ever heard.

"I have no idea." Lily gritted her teeth.

"I've just come back in," Petunia explained.

"Oh, you - you were out all night?" Lily asked carefully. Her sister had never exactly been what you would call the party type.

"Came back an hour ago," Petunia smirked.

"Oh, well that's, er, nice," Lily said guardedly.

"It was," said Petunia in an uncharacteristically dreamy tone, smoothing her dress.

Lily had finally worked out what was going on. Petunia had gone mad. The only policy open to her was to ignore it. She opened the bread bin.

"Toast?" she asked crisply.

"Oh no, Lily. I couldn't eat a thing." Petunia patted her bony stomach.

"Fair enough." Lily shoved two slices of bread under the grill and watched them darken slowly. It was such a pain, Lily thought, not being allowed to do magic… it would have only taken a fraction of the time… She glanced at Petunia, who was now stroking the coffee pot and humming to herself. Mad or sane, she did not think Petunia would react well to Lily pulling out her wand.

"Making toast, Lils? Excellent," a voice said from the doorway.

"Morning, Dad." Lily smiled, flipping the toast deftly.

"Good morning, Daddy," Petunia beamed, leaning up to plant a kiss on his cheek. Harry Evans looked at his eldest daughter in shock.

"Are you feeling alright, Petunia, dear?"

"Never better," Petunia trilled. "Excuse me, I must go and change."

And she swept out of the room.

"Is the whole house up?" Lily's mother padded into the room in her dressing gown. "The whole house out of bed by seven o'clock," she said wonderingly. "The Apocalypse must be nigh."

From above Lily heard the unmistakable sound of _Let's Twist Again_ drifting through the floorboards. Lily exchanged a baffled look with her father. _Petunia singing? _

Lily finished her toast slowly and had begun to stump up the stairs to her room when the doorbell rang. Lily half-turned, wondering whether she ought to go and answer it when she was nearly knocked flying by Petunia, who was tearing down the corridor for the door.

"It'll be for me," she sang, yanking the door open. Petunia stuck her head around the door. Lily heard a murmur of voices and then Petunia drew her head back sharply.

"Lily," she snapped. "It's a boy. He says he wants to see you." She flounced off into the kitchen again. Lily walked to the door slowly. Who could be calling for her at this hour?

"Evans!" A boy about Lily's age with untidy, jet black hair and brown eyes stood on the doorstep.

"_Potter?"_

"You're looking good," James said suavely. Lily realised with a jolt she was still wearing her pyjamas.

"What the _hell_ are you doing here?" she gasped.

"Visiting you," James answered promptly. "Aren't you going to let me in?"

"I don't think -"

"Thanks."

James walked in, looking around him interestedly.

"I've never been in a Muggle home before."

"How did you find out where I live?" Lily asked, horrified. James smiled easily.

"It's hardly Arithmancy, Evans. I looked on your luggage label on the Hogwarts Express."

"Oh, you did, did you?" Lily said, annoyed.

"Yep." Lily resisted the urge to shake him.

"Why?"

"I wanted to know." James shrugged. "Is this your kitchen? Have you got anything I could eat? I'm starving."

"No, _don't go in there!"_

It was too late. James had ambled into the kitchen smiling courteously at Lily's startled parents.

"Mum, Dad this is Po- er, James," Lily said helplessly.

"Pleased to meet you," James said with a broad smile. "I'm terribly sorry to intrude so early in the morning, but I had to talk to your daughter."

"Of course," said Lily's mother smiling warmly. "Nice to meet you, James. Have you had breakfast? Lily, why don't you put on some more toast?"

Lily dazedly put on some more bread under the grill as James chatted easily to her parents. Petunia, who had taken to skulking behind the kitchen counter, shot James a poisonous glare. Typically, Potter took this as an invitation.

"Hello again," he said so sweetly he made Lily's teeth hurt. "My name's James, by the way, James Potter. You must be Lily's sister. I've heard so much about you."

Lily gaped at him. She was sure she had never even mentioned Petunia to him.

"What a beautiful dress." James smiled his most ingratiating smile.

"I should think so," said Petunia, in her hard, bitter way. "It cost a month's worth of savings."

That was when Lily realised that she couldn't possibly be dreaming. Never in her wildest nightmares could she conceive of James Potter and Petunia, people so dissimilar they may as well have spent their lives on different planets, sitting around in her kitchen and casually discussing _ball gowns……_

"Lily! Wake up, dear, the toast's burning," her mother pointed out.

"Blast!" Lily pulled the smouldering toast out from under the grill. James leapt up.

"I'll help," he said eagerly, pulling out his wand. Petunia let out a muffled scream.

"_Rectus Cendio,_" James muttered and his toast returned to normal. "Cheers." He picked up one of the slices of toast giving Lily one of his trademark dazzling smiles.

"I thought we weren't allowed to do magic out of school," she said stiffly. James' smile faded a little.

"Oh, yeah… Well, my dad has contacts in the Ministry, he'll fix it. Anyhow I'm _practically_ of age..."

Lily quickly decided she'd better cut to the chase before he became even more insufferable. Turning to one side so that her parents couldn't see her being rude to a guest she asked, "Why are you here, Potter?" James put down the piece of toast he was holding.

"I have something to tell you." Lily raised her eyebrows.

"You barge in here uninvited, perform unauthorised magic in _my_ house…What makes you think I am remotely interested in anything you have to say?" she hissed at him. James flushed.

"Evans, please, this really _is_ important. Honestly, I'm not messing about."

Lily opened her mouth to make a sarcastic reply, and then closed it again. Something about the way James was looking at her told her that for once, he might actually be sincere. "Fine," she said reluctantly. "But not here. I'll just go and get dressed and we can go for a walk."

"Sounds good." He smiled.

Lily dressed hurriedly, putting on her favourite denim skirt and green blouse. Not that it mattered what she wore, of course. Merlin only knew _she _didn't care what Potter thought of her. The arrogant prat, just turning up at her house expecting to be admitted…who did he think he was?

She glanced in the mirror. Petunia was right: she _did _look awful. She dragged a hairbrush through her hair and splashed some water on her face.

At the foot of the stairs, Lily paused to look into the kitchen. Her father was animatedly explaining the rules of football to James, who was listening, apparently enthralled, while Lily's mother was looking on at the pair fondly. _He already has them eating out of the palm of his hand,_ Lily thought, exasperated.

Petunia, however, did not look so happy. She was skulking in a corner, glaring balefully at James. For a moment, Lily felt a wave of affection for her sister. At least _she_ could be relied upon to be unimpressed by the superficial charms of overconfident young wizards.

"Lily." Petunia looked up. "Whatever are you wearing your best skirt for? I thought you said you weren't doing anything special today." Lily's feeling of affection vanished.

"It's comfortable," she said shortly. "Are you coming, Potter? I haven't got all day." James got up immediately.

"Talk to you later, mate." James clapped Lily's father on the shoulder.

_Not if I can help it, _Lily thought.

She opened the door, stepping out into the leafy front garden, James following closely. They walked to the gate in silence. James fumbled with the catch in apparent confusion until Lily showed him how to open it. _Purebloods! _she thought, amused. _Strip them of their powers and they're as helpless as children…_

Perversely, now that they were alone, James seemed suddenly unwilling to talk. He was staring at the ground now, biting his lip. _Nervous? _Lily wondered. _Surely not._

"You seemed to be getting on well with my dad," Lily commented, to break the silence.

"He's nice. You have nice folks, Evans," James said thoughtfully.

"I know." She didn't say what she was thinking: _but the, you'd know how to charm a Basilisk._ James took a deep breath, stopping short.

"Evans, I - I did come to tell you something."

"I'd hope so," Lily said coolly.

"Yes." James grinned sheepishly. "But this- this is really is important."

Lily shrugged.

"O.K. Look, there's a park over there. We can go sit on a bench if you like."

They reached the park, sitting awkwardly, looking around at the bland stretch of grass in front of them.

"I don't suppose you've had much contact with the wizarding world," James said suddenly.

"Not a lot. Bobbie and Raina write to me but…"

"But you haven't heard?"

"Heard?"

"About the attacks," James said bluntly.

"No - what attacks? What's happened?" Lily said, alarmed.

"Well, it's not exactly common knowledge yet, hasn't even been reported in the newspapers... I only know because my dad he works for the Ministry and -"

"_What kind of attacks?" _Lily repeated.

"Murders. Some family called Harris. Their house was completely trashed and they were found dead in their beds. And the Peters -"

James swallowed. Perhaps it was the light but Lily thought James looked somewhat paler than usual. Lily closed her eyes for a moment: _Haven't you heard, Mudblood? Sudden deaths, unliftable hexes, blackmail and seduction… we're gaining power everywhere._ It can't be true, Lily thought. But then Potter, prat though he was about most things, would not lie about something like this.

"Is it - is it them? The Death Eaters."

But Lily thought she already knew the answer. James nodded slowly.

"Dad thinks so. I mean, it's definitely an organised group of some kind, and the curses they used were pretty powerful Dark Arts spells... but he says it doesn't make sense. These people weren't like the others, weren't, like, political opponents or anything; they don't seem to have done anything to get in Lord Voldemort's way. They were just, well, ordinary people. "

There was a silence. Then Lily said, "But can't anyone stop them, can't anyone do something…?"

"The Ministry are trying, but Dad says they've no proof Voldemort's lot were even involved. And lots of the Aurors are scared to look too closely at the evidence. They're afraid that if they openly oppose them, they'll be next."

There was a long silence.

"So I just wanted to say - to warn you - be careful, Evans." James was poking at an empty cigarette packet with the toe of his shoe.

"O.K.," Lily said slowly. "Have you told this anyone else?" James didn't look at her.

"No. My dad's not - they're not allowed to talk about it. The Ministry's trying to hush it all up. He shouldn't even have told me, but he wanted to put me on my guard. And... I came to you first because… all the witches and wizards killed so far have been Muggle-borns." Lily felt her stomach clench.

"Oh." James was looking at her closely.

"Are you OK?"

"Yes - yes, I just -" she took a deep breath. "I suppose I should've been expecting that."

In her mind's eye she saw Narcissa Black's face, twisted with anger, as it had been two weeks ago. _You wait,_ _filthy little Mudblood, just you wait, it's coming… **He's** coming._

"The Ministry are on full alert now so it shouldn't be so easy - I mean the Death Eaters will have a harder time getting away with it next time. I'm sure you'll be safe really, I just wanted to -" James babbled on, still looking at her anxiously.

"Are you planning to tell anyone else?" she cut in.

James shifted in his seat. "You reckon I should?"

"Yes," said Lily decidedly. "It's wrong that people shouldn't even know about the danger. Other Muggle-borns especially ought to know what's going on."

"Well," James said, squaring his shoulders. "It'll be a bit of a job but I can try. And Remus and Peter will help me." He looked a little brighter at this.

"Well, yes, but we'll need more people than that. I mean how many Muggle-borns are there at risk anyway? If you get together your friends and I get mine..."

James frowned, deep in thought. "We'll have to be careful... if the Ministry finds out, Dad will be in big trouble."

"Hmm," Lily said thoughtfully.

"Well, we'd better meet up sometime... if we're going to organize this properly, y'know," James said hopefully.

"Good idea," Lily said briskly. "We could get everyone together in the Leaky Cauldron, that's easy. How about Saturday, eleven o'clock?"

"It's a date," said James.

Lily frowned at him.

"It's just an expression," he added, with one of his lop-sided grins.

They walked back to Lily's house slowly, deep in thought. At the Evans' gate James stopped short. "I have to get back."

"Oh." Lily was taken aback for a moment. "Alright. See you on Saturday then."

"Sure. Well, bye, then."

She merely nodded. James opened his mouth, shrugged and then turned walking briskly down the sleepy street.

"Oh, and James!" she called after him. James looked back.

"Yeah?"

"Thanks."

"No problem." James turned again and went on his way, smiling widely.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Thanks to Dancing in Magic, CornedBee and Lone Astronomer for beta.

The Tech Screptam

When Bobbie was younger, she used to think that there was no place quite like her house anywhere on earth. Now that she was older, she knew there wasn't. For Bobbie's home was the Tech Screptam - the oldest and largest wizarding library in Britain. Of course she didn't actually live _in_ the library, but in the rooms behind it, although that distinction was entirely superficial. The book collections flowed seamlessly from the main library into the old library, which was now the Macmillans' apartment. In fact, the place that was usually known to the public as the Tech Screptam (and which the Macmillans' affectionately referred to as the 'Pubbly') was really only the tip of a very large iceberg.

For a start, there was the Macmillans' living area, which was stuffed with books that had become outdated or old-fashioned and consequently been removed from public view. They sat in stacks in the corners of rooms, were wedged in the gaps between cupboards and piled three deep on the shelves. Visitors who used the bathroom often didn't emerge for hours; it was papered with stray pages of ancient spell books and worn-out novels. But even the entire contents of the Macmillans' residence and the Pubbly combined didn't make up a quarter of what lay quietly concealed in the Vaults. That was where the most interesting books were kept, the ones that could only be taken out by special request, and in rare cases only with a permit signed and counter-signed by the Department of Reading and Other Dangerous Activities.

And so it was that when Bobbie, a girl accustomed to vast amounts of books from her infancy, entered the great Cathedral-like chamber of snowy marble, with its towering shelves of books bound in every colour of the rainbow, she felt less overawed than hungry.

"Good old Pubbly," said Lance cheerfully, running a hand along the spines of one of the shelves of books. "Hey, I haven't seen this one before? Is it new?"

"We got it in last week," said Bobbie's father, smiling proudly.

"It's well bound." said Lance, sliding it off the shelf. "And the illustrations are excellent. The text is rather small, though."

"That's just what Markham said. I had to put a Magnifying charm on for him."

"What's for lunch?" Bobbie cut in.

"Parsnip soup and home baked bread," her mother said proudly.

Bobbie smiled back half-heartedly. She was glad to be back home, of course, but she couldn't help missing Hogwarts food. Not that her mother was a _bad _cook, exactly. In fact, Bobbie suspected she might be quite good if only it weren't for the intimidating presence of a hundred and fifty-six recipe books sharing the kitchen with her. Yes, thought Bobbie pensively, the Macmillan family had certainly got their priorities wrong somewhere along the line.

"Cheer up," said Lance, poking her in the ribs, and then hissed in her ear, "At least it's not marrow."

Lance and Bobbie both loathed their mother's stuffed marrow, although somehow they had never had the heart to tell her so.

"Ah, here we are."

They had reached the back of the Pubbly where a marble archangel stood, her back to the wall, clasping a book to her bosom. Bobbie's father reached out with his wand and tapped her three times on the nose. A shiver ran through her out-stretched wings and her nose twitched three times, before she lifted her eyes from her book and smiled at the family.

"Hello Cherry," said Bobbie's father.

"Good afternoon," she said hazily. Her eyes fell on Lance.

"Why, Master Macmillan, are you back from school already? And Miss Roberta, too. How lovely." Cherry gave a slow smile, her marble mouth bending reluctantly.

"Hello, Cherry," said Lance. "You're looking nice today."

The angel's smile widened.

"I've just been cleaned," she whispered conspiratorially.

"Is that it? Well, you do look centuries younger."

Bobbie rolled her eyes. Lance always had had a terrible way with statues.

"Yes – well," Cherry said, obviously flustered. "Now - what was I going to say? Oh, yes. Password?"

"_Feles Nocte Exponenda_," said Bobbie's father solemnly.

"Righto." The angel turned around slowly on the spot and sunk into the ground. A door appeared where she had been standing.

Lance raised his eyebrows. "Feles nocte Exponenda?"

"Well, it helps me remember," their father said sheepishly. Bobbie's mother opened the door and they all climbed inside.

"Oof," said Bobbie. She had forgotten about the drop. Lance laughed, not unkindly and picked her up off the flagged stone floor.

"Oh, _Bobbie,_" her mother sighed. "When will you learn?"

Bobbie scowled. It was hardly her fault that the Old Library where the Macmillans lived was over fifteen centuries old, and had a different idea of where the ground should be than everywhere else.

"It's good for her, Mother," said Lance. "Falling three feet each day makes excellent training for professional Quidditch, eh, Bobbie?"

Bobbie stuck her tongue out at her brother, and seated herself at the dinner table.

"What's that smell?" her father asked, sniffing at the air.

"Oh, _dear_!" Bobbie's mother cried. "The soup!"

Bobbie shot a long suffering glance at her brother. He rolled his eyes, grinning.

"Home at last," he said.

In general Bobbie quite liked books. It was pretty hard to grow up a Macmillan and not like books, even if you did happen to be the black sheep (or lion, in her case) of the family. There were times, however, when Bobbie absolutely hated books. Today was one of these times.

"Another lot," said Lance, trundling in a cartful of returned books. "Haven't you finished those yet?"

"No," said Bobbie resentfully. "I'm afraid I don't have your natural flair for the Happleburne system."

"It shows." Lance said, unsympathetically.

Bobbie stuck out a tongue at his retreating back, and picked up the next book. _Anatomy of an Albatross_ by Freda A. Winkle. Natural History, magical creatures section. She had a pile of those already. Why on earth did Natural History have to be on the other side of the library? Bobbie slapped the book down on top of _A History of Hippogriffs, _picked up the pile and headed off across the library.

"Morning, Bobbie." Cuthbert Snangle, a regular visitor to the library, nodded to her as she passed.

"Hi, Cuthbert. How's the book coming along?"

Cuthbert gave her a thumbs up and a wink. Bobbie smiled back and went on her way, weaving in and out of tables and through the passage ways between the shelves.

"- can't say it gives me a huge thrill, no, Mother -"A voice rang out from in front of her, sounding unnaturally loud in the muffled quiet of the library.

"Well, perhaps next time you would prefer that I leave you behind. I'm sure Kreacher would be glad for the company," a woman's voice replied, in a tone of forced evenness.

"I don't see why I can't just -"

"Your freedom, as I have made perfectly clear, depends entirely upon your own behaviour. I will not condone -"

There was a low muttering sound and then:

"Regulus' age is irrelevant. Regulus has exhibited a sense of pride in his heritage, and can be trusted to act accordingly. _He _shows a proper discernment about the company he keeps."

"So do I, Mother." Bobbie paused for a moment to listen. She _recognized_ that voice. "I only ever keep company with decent human beings - when given the choice, of course."

Bobbie rounded the corner. A dark-haired boy stood in a clearing surrounded by a wall of shelves, glaring at the woman opposite him.

"Black?"

Sirius turned.

"Bobbie!" he cried. "What are you doing here? Merlin, it's good to see you! Here, let me take those."

And Bobbie's arms suddenly lightened as Sirius Black removed a good two thirds of the books she was holding.

"Er – hello," said Bobbie, who could not remember ever in her life being greeted with such enthusiasm by Black, who usually seemed aloof and rather bored. "How are you?"

Sirius made a face.

"Fabulous," he said. Then, observing her surprised face, he shrugged. "I miss Hogwarts."

"Sirius?" said the woman, in a tone that cut every trace of pleasure out of her son's face. "Who is this person?"

Now that her view was unobstructed by books, Bobbie took a good look at the woman's face. It was strange to think of her as Sirius' mother. The features were similar, Bobbie supposed - the same dark hair, the same slender, slightly aquiline nose - but while Sirius' face was full of light and mobility, his mother's was as immovable as a lump of granite. The thick colourless lips looked as though they would be incapable of anything so human as a smile and the dark glittering eyes seemed to be the only thing still alive in the stiff pallid countenance.

"_This person_ is Roberta Macmillan, of the House of Macmillan," Sirius said, with an extravagantly courtly gesture. "Oh, don't worry, Mother, they've been Purebloods for at least eight generations."

The woman took a step towards Sirius, her eyes flashing. For a moment Bobbie thought she might hit her son, but she merely said, "I'll thank you, Sirius, not to talk to me in that insolent tone." She rounded on Bobbie, who quailed.

"How do you do?" she said stiffly.

"Um, fine, thank you." Then, because she seemed to be expecting something more. "Pleased to meet you."

The woman gave a stately nod. Bobbie smiled nervously.

"Well - I'd better be taking these books back," she said.

"I'll help you," said Sirius. "All right?" He turned to his mother defiantly. The woman's - his mother's - lips tightened visibly.

"Very well," she said. "I will expect you back here in an hour. And do not even think of leaving the building. I will know."

Sirius didn't speak at all as they approached the Natural History section, his face almost as still and haughty as his mother's. As they reached the shelves, however, he perked up, his eyes full of amusement once more as they surveyed her.

"So, d'you work here, then?"

"I live here," said Bobbie, smiling. "The Macmillans have been librarians almost as long as they've been Purebloods."

Sirius didn't smile back.

"Look, just because my mother's - just because of what I said - doesn't mean I believe in all that blood rubbish, alright?"

"I know," said Bobbie, surprised, "I don't, either."

"No sane person would," Sirius said shortly. "So where does this go?" He held up _Anatomy of an Albatross._

"Oh, Merlin," said Bobbie. "I hate this stuff. Let's see - its Winkle, that's W, that makes fifteen - and it's green so you add five - here."

She pointed at a place. Sirius slotted it in.

"I didn't realise it was so complicated," he said.

"It's awful," said Bobbie. "Mind you, you should see Lance at it - Clarence Macmillan, he's my brother -"

"The Ravenclaw Prefect," said Sirius grimly. "I remember."

"Well, he can do them like _that._" She clicked her fingers. "I was always terrible at Arithmancy," she added mournfully.

"Well, then, this may just happen to be your lucky day." Sirius turned the full force of his smile on her. "I happen to be a genius at Arithmancy - and everything else for that matter."

"Uh huh?"

"Yep," said Sirius. "So, what's the equation?"

Bobbie explained and Sirius got to work. She had to admit he _was_ pretty good at it - nearly as good as Lance.

"And _Knucklebacks and Kneazles _- there. I could get used to this."

"Good," said Bobbie dryly. "I've got a whole cartload waiting back at the main desk."

When they arrived back at the main desk (by-passing the Genealogy section where Sirius' mother sat immersed in a thick tome) they found Lily Evans leaning over the counter in deep conversation with a rather ruffled and grimy looking Lance.

"Bobbie!" Lily looked up as they approached. "And Black. What are you doing here?"

"Learning the ways of the librarian," said Sirius, then added in a stage whisper, "It's a doddle."

"A doddle?" said Lance, "You haven't been down to the Vaults."

"Is that how you got so dirty?" Bobbie remarked. "You look like me after Quidditch practice."

"Vault seven," said Lance darkly. "The door's jamming again. I had to blast it open, and of course half a ton of dirt fell on me -"

"Vault Seven," said Bobbie, with interest. "Why –"

Lance cleared his throat loudly, casting a pointed look in Sirius' direction. Bobbie sighed. She wished Lance wouldn't take the Secrecy Restrictions so seriously.

Sirius shot Lance a curious look, but seemed to decide not to pursue the subject. He turned to Lily.

"So how are you, Evans? Still out to break poor James' heart?"

Lily scowled at him.

"Actually," she addressed herself to Bobbie, "I talked to him yesterday."

"You did?" Bobbie was surprised. Lily was always saying how much she hated James Potter.

"Yes, and I expect he'll be trying to get in contact with you soon, Sirius."

"He'll be lucky," Sirius muttered. "So are you going to tell us what you and James have been up to in these cosy little discussions of yours?"

Lily ignored him. "There's a meeting at eleven o'clock, in the Leaky Cauldron."

"What kind of meeting?"

Lily lowered her voice mysteriously. "A meeting for people opposed to what the Death Eaters are doing," she said. "That's all I can say here. So, will you come?"

Sirius' face was suddenly sharp with interest. "I'll be there,"

"Me too," said Bobbie. Lance nodded as well, smiling at Lily.

"Have you asked Raina?"

Lily shook her head.

"No. I'll try and Floo her from the Leaky Cauldron. Speaking of which I'd better get going."

"Already?" said Lance.

"My gran's staying over." said Lily. "Her house is being redecorated, so she's camping out at ours. We're all supposed to be having family time." Lily's eyes gleamed. "Petunia hates it."

"Well, bye," Bobbie said as Lily hugged her.

"See you Saturday. Oh, and by the way - don't owl me. My gran doesn't know about magic so Trimble floating in through the window would be pretty hard to explain."

"I'll remember," said Bobbie.

"Bye, Lily," said Lance.

"See you later," said Sirius.

Lily turned to wave at the doors to the Tech Screptam, and was gone.

"Right," said Lance, suddenly brisk. "I've got these sorted for you. It's all fiction. Romance."

"_A_ _Veela's Passion_?" said Sirius, flicking through one. Bobbie looked over his shoulder.

"Oi," Lance said sternly "I don't want my sister looking at books like that. You neither, Black."

"Why not?" asked Bobbie crossly.

"You're too young."

"I'm only a year younger than you!" Bobbie said indignantly.

"We hear you," said Sirius innocently, placing the book back on the pile. Lance gave him a narrow look.

"Watch it, you. I haven't forgotten Bertram Aubrey, you know."

"Neither have I." Sirius flashed Lance a wicked grin. "Don't worry, Macmillan. I won't corrupt your sister."

"You'd better not," said Lance darkly.

As soon as Bobbie and Sirius had turned the corner Sirius whipped the book out again.

"Right, now, let's see if we can find the naughty bits…"

"I heard that!" yelled Lance.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three- The Meeting.

James had woken up at six to send another owl to Sirius. At seven o'clock the owl had returned, with James' message still attached to his leg. James scowled. If things went on like this he'd just have to call round at the Blacks' himself to see Sirius. True, Mrs Black had threatened to turn him into a toad if he turned up at their house again, but desperate times called for desperate measures. Or perhaps he could persuade Peter to creep in under the front door, in rat form. He didn't _think _the Blacks had a cat.

James spent the rest of the morning waiting for it to be half past ten so he could legitimately set out for the meeting. Ten o' clock would be a good time to arrive, James thought. Early because, after all, it was _his_ meeting – his and Lily's – and he had to be organized about it. But not too early. Casually early. That was the trick. James had made the mistake in the past of seeming too keen about Lily Evans. Well, from now on he was going to be a lot more laid back about the whole thing. After all Sirius could get any girl he wanted and he never seemed to make any effort. Girls _liked_ guys to be lazy.

So far it seemed to be working. James smiled as he remembered Lily Evans smiling at him when he went to visit her. She had actually thanked him. And he hadn't even tried to ask her out once.

"James? Are you going out?" James' mother popped her head around the corner carrying a washing basket piled high with clothes.

"In a minute."

"I don't know how you manage it. You turn out more dirty robes in a week than I used to in an entire season!" she said holding up James' muddy Quidditch robes. Laura Potter had been a Seeker for the Appleby Arrows before James had been born, and was still occasionally called in for a reserve, a fact that James was extremely proud of.

"I have to keep in shape for the match against Slytherin. Imagine if Gryffindor lost just because I hadn't been practicing."

"It looks like you've been swimming in them, not just practicing. How an earth did you manage to get them this muddy? It's June!"

Actually the mud had been the product of an unfortunate incident involving a wayward snitch, a wild boar, and a bog, but James did not intend to tell his mother about _that_.

"We're nearly out of Floo powder," he said, lifting the lid of the Floo jar and inspecting it.

"Oh, well, pick up some more from town, will you?" James' mother called from the washroom. "My purse is on the table." James picked out a couple of galleons from the purse and put them in his pocket. "And get some more Magical Mess Remover too."

"What did your last House Elf die of?" James called back.

"Overindulgence and a life of excessive leisure," his mother replied. "I just want to make sure you don't go the same way."

James snorted.

"Are you meeting Sirius?" she said, coming back into the room, her voice deliberately casual. His mother never talked much about the Black family in front of James, but from the scraps of conversation James had overheard he knew his parents worried about Sirius almost as much as he did.

"I don't know," said James sighed. "I've tried to owl him, but all my messages get sent straight back unopened."

His mother frowned. "I hope he's all right."

"I'll ask Peter and Remus if they've heard anything about him."

"Yes, do. And if you do see him make sure to invite him around. He's welcome at any time, make sure he knows that James."

"Sure." James smiled reassuringly. "Don't worry about it, Mum."

"Well. Have a good time." James' mother ruffled his hair. "You'll be back for dinner?"

"'Course," said James, ducking his head to evade a kiss. He took off his glasses, putting them in his trouser pocket, and emptied the Floo pot into the fire.

"Diagon Alley!" James called out, stepping into the flames. Immediately the green fire blazed up around him, a muted warmth licking at his ears, then he began to spin and his mother's face was whipped out of sight. Suddenly he was jerked to a halt and, stumbling out of the fire place, tripped over someone's leg.

"Ouch!" he said as his face met the floorboards.

"James?" A hand shot out, pulling James to his feet and helping him into a chair. James looked closely at the blurred face in front of him. It was Remus Lupin.

"Moony! You tripped me up." James said reproachfully.

"Sorry."

James dug in his pockets for his glasses and put them on. The room swam into focus. Remus was sitting on a chair in front of the fire, a book in one hand. Behind him a group of warlocks sat immersed in what appeared to be a serious discussion over their mead, and a family group sat behind them looking at menus.

"Busy for a Saturday morning, isn't it?" James said, looking suspiciously at the people surrounding them.

"Mmm," said Remus "I guess it's getting close to lunch time."

James frowned. He hadn't thought of it before but now it occurred to him it would not do well to be overheard. His dad could get in serious trouble if the Ministry knew what he'd told James.

"So, how are you?" Remus asked looking at him closely. "Have you heard from Sirius?"

James shook his head.

"Not a thing. You?"

"No. But then they've never let Sirius see me have they?" As a half blood, Remus had been the very first member of the Marauders to be banned from the Black residence.

"Well, I don't think they're too keen on me either. Not any more. So, how's ... everything else?" Full moon was only three days away.

"Well, I had an owl from Peter yesterday; he said he'd be here."

"I meant more in terms of the furry little problem."

"Oh, that. Not bad," Remus said, glancing away. "My mum keeps trying to feed me up. I keep telling her I don't like to eat much beforehand, but she thinks I need my strength building up."

James snorted. As he knew from personal experience, if there was one thing the Wolf didn't need it was more strength.

"You should tell her you'll make up for it afterwards. You always eat like a pig when the full moon's over."

Remus smiled. "Well, it's an exhausting experience. What's your excuse?"

James was about to retort when the door opened and Peter came in, blinking at the sudden dimness of the pub.

"James, Remus!" He hurried over, a grin breaking across his face. "Boy am I glad to see you. I thought my mum would never let me go."

"You should've told her you were meeting Remus." James advised. "Parents always love it when you go to meet Remus."

Remus shook his head.

"It's true. Furry little problem aside -"

"Will you stop calling it that?"

"Remus is what is considered the model of responsibility. His Prefectness is here, let us bow down and all that."

Peter laughed and Remus tried to scowl.

"So, what's the meeting about, Prongs?" Peter asked interestedly.

James glanced significantly around the pub. "I'll tell you later. When the others get here. Really, we need somewhere more private."

"You want somewhere private?" A voice said in James' ear making him jump.

"Sirius!" said Peter in surprise. "You weren't here a minute ago."

"I crept in through the Muggle entrance." Sirius said smugly. "They don't call me Padfoot for nothing, you know."

"Did you get my messages then?" James asked, in surprise.

Sirius scowled. "No. I met Evans in the Tech Screptam, she told me." Sirius plunked himself down in a chair. "Is anyone going to buy me a drink?"

"Buy your own," said Remus, smiling.

"What's in the bag?" Peter asked, and James noticed the crumpled paper bag in Sirius' hand for the first time. Sirius grinned.

"This, my friends," he said, "is pick 'n' mix."

"Is what?"

"Muggle sweets," Sirius clarified, and held out the bag to them. "Try one."

James looked dubiously at the multi-coloured mess in the bag. James liked Muggles, but he wasn't sure he wanted to sample their cooking. However when Remus took one he decided it must be safe, and he picked out a sweet. It was green and had the consistency of rubber.

"Wine gum," said Sirius, who appeared to have suddenly become the world expert on Muggle confectionery. "Good choice. That's a chocolate mouse." he said to Peter. "They don't squeak or anything but they taste all right."

"How come you're buying Muggle sweets?" Peter asked, nibbling at his nervously.

"Oh, I was just looking around the shops and I found them. You wouldn't believe half the stuff these Muggles sell. I found this place where they were selling these little tanks with trunks on them like an elephant. The assistant said they were for cleaning the floor with!"

"What?" said James.

"Weird," said Peter fervently.

"Yeah, I know. I thought even _Muggles_ had brooms."

"So … how come you're visiting Muggle shops, then? Do your parents know you're here?" James said carefully. You never knew how Sirius was going to react to a mention of his family.

"Simple. My mother thinks I'm spending the morning swotting in the Tech Screptam like a good boy."

"And she really believes that?" Remus asked sceptically. Sirius grinned.

"No. She _believes _I'm courting Macmillan."

James almost choked on his sweet. "You? Courting _Bobbie_?"

"Uh-huh. Her parents own the library, apparently, and she's been covering for me nicely."

"And your parents are OK about you, er, courting her?" Peter asked.

"Oh, yes. Nice little Pureblood girl, why wouldn't they be?" Sirius was beginning to look moody again.

"So ... didn't you say you could get us somewhere private?" James diverted him.

"Oh, yeah. Easy." Sirius smirked. "Watch this."

Sirius got up and strode confidently over to the bar.

"Ho, Tom!" Sirius spoke in a cold lazy tone and James was strongly reminded of the old Head Boy Lucius Malfoy. A short balding man with bad teeth seemed to pop up out of nowhere in front of Sirius.

"Why Master Black! What an honour."

"Indeed," Sirius said coolly. "My friends and I would like a private parlour. It is far too noisy out here.

"Of course."

Tom scuttled out from behind the bar and through a side door. Sirius nodded at the others to follow. They found themselves in a small, cosy looking room in which a number of plushy sofas were grouped around a mahogany table.

"Will this suit you, Master Black?"

"It will do," said Sirius, still in the same lofty drawl.

"Is there anything else you would like?" Tom asked deferentially.

Sirius exchanged a look with James, his eyes gleaming.

"Well, I rather fancy a nice bottle of Firewhiskey myself, how about you, my friends?"

"Oh, yes, er, topping," said James attempting to imitate Sirius' upper class intonation.

The barman's mouth quirked up at the corner. "I'm afraid I cannot break the Decree for the Restriction of Underage Drinking, not even for you, Mr Black."

"Ah, well," Sirius said cheerfully, suddenly dropping his superior manner. "A crate of butterbeer, then."

"A whole crate?" the barman said dubiously.

"We've got more friends coming later," Remus explained. "Could you show them in here, if anyone asks for us?"

"Of course." Tom bowed and went out of the door. James looked around the comfortable parlour.

"Not bad," he said appreciatively. "I didn't even know the Leaky Cauldron had private rooms."

"Comfortable chairs, too." Peter bounced a little on one of the arm chairs.

"One of the few perks of being a Black." Sirius threw himself down onto a sofa putting his feet on the armrest. "Snap your fingers and someone is sure to come running."

"Wish the same could be said about the Potters." James muttered.

"Nah. Everyone knows you lot are too nice to make your underlings properly miserable."

"Says who?" Remus muttered. James shoved him good naturedly and then plonked himself down beside him.

"Luxury," he commented.

"Evans mentioned you, James. When I met her in the library," Sirius said suddenly.

James sat up and then, belatedly, tried not to look too interested. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." Sirius smirked. "I might've known you'd be using your summer holidays to stalk her, Prongs."

James flushed. "Is that what she said?"

"Aww, look, he's blushing!"

"You look like a tomato, James," Peter guffawed.

"Well I - well, at least I haven't been having assignations with Macmillan in the library," said James, deciding the best form of defence was attack..

"Oh, so you admit it now, do you?" Sirius mocked. James glared at him.

"I went to tell her about the meeting stuff. That's all."

"Oh, so you couldn't have just owled her like you did me?" Remus joined in.

"Shut up, all of you." James gave up.

Sirius sniggered loudly, and James hurled a cushion at him. At that point the door opened and Tom entered followed by Lily Evans who looked (James couldn't help noticing) very pretty in a white blouse and Muggle jeans. James opened his mouth to say hello and got a mouthful of fabric as Sirius threw the cushion back in his face.

"Hello, Lily. We were just talking about you," Remus said innocently as James tried desperately to fight off Sirius and the aforesaid cushion.

"_Mmph,_" James tried to object, but his mouth was full of fluff.

"Oh?" said Lily dubiously.

"Yeah," said Sirius, relinquishing the cushion and looking up. "Yeah, James was telling us -"

"Is that the butterbeer, Tom?" James said loudly. He had no idea what Sirius was about to say but he was sure it would be something humiliating.

"Yes, sir, will twenty-four bottles enough for you?" Tom said politely but James noticed a slight sarcastic turn to his voice.

"Yes, thank you, Tom" Sirius had reverted to his I Am a Black, Fear Me voice.

"Well, I fancy a drink." James said quickly. "Want one?" he asked Lily.

"All right." She was still looking at him oddly. James ruffled his hair nervously. "You, er, have a bit of fluff on the corner of your mouth."

James wiped his mouth, his face warm. Sirius sniggered.

"Are Bobbie and Raina here yet? They promised me they'd come." Lily was looking around.

"No, but it's still early." Remus looked at his watch. "Only five to."

"Who else is coming?" asked James. "I invited Frank."

"Well, I asked the Bobbin sisters and Bobbie will bring her brother. And Raina's bringing her boyfriend." Lily looked slightly disapproving as she said this.

"Oh dear." said a voice said from the doorway. Bobbie Macmillan had entered with her brother. "She isn't, is she?"

"Why? What's wrong with her boyfriend?" Sirius asked interestedly.

"Nothing." said Lily. "He's just so… so.."

"So _hearty._" said Bobbie with a pained expression.

Remus looked like he was going to laugh. "Oh dear."

Alice and Amy Bobbin were the next to arrive with Frank Longbottom. James remembered playing with the Bobbin sisters when he was younger (they were distantly related to him in some complicated manner James couldn't remember). He'd always liked playing with them as a child because of their soft voices and wide smiles and they, in turn, had made a pet of him. He grinned at them across the room and Alice winked back.

"Help yourselves to butterbeer," he announced grandly. "If you give the money to Peter here, he'll sort out the bill in the end."

"Why me?" Peter grumbled.

"You're good at it," James replied. "You know I can't add up to save my life, and Remus is even worse."

"Hey!"

"And I have to leave early." Sirius pointed out.

"Hello, everyone! Oh, butterbeer, excellent," a voice boomed.

A burly, curly-haired boy James vaguely recognized as being a reserve on the Hufflepuff team had entered and had immediately gone for the butterbeer crate. Behind him was Raina Blake. James had once heard Blake described by Hagrid, the Hogwarts groundskeeper, as "a sharp girl". James had thought at the time what a remarkably accurate description that was. Everything about Blake was sharp: sharp chin, sharp elbows … sharp tongue.

"My name's McLaggen, Rudolph McLaggen," the curly haired boy announced enthusiastically to the world at large. James saw Bobbie and Lily exchange a glance.

"Budge up." Blake had grabbed a Butterbeer and plonked herself down beside Peter. James noticed Peter shifting nervously to one side, eyeing Blake's elbows fearfully. "I'm not going to bite you, Pettigrew," she added with a pitying look.

Peter blushed as Sirius snorted.

"How're you?" asked Lily, leaning over to give her friend a hug.

"Not bad. Auntie's acting like a madwoman though. It's the Crouches' Midsummer Ball in two weeks, Merlin help us."

"Sounds, er, fun?"

Blake snorted.

"Oh yes, great fun. Who wouldn't want a crowd of sweaty ministry officials and their wives trampling all over the house and discussing their stupid decrees and restrictions? You know, you all have to come or I'll be bored to tears."

"Is that an invitation?" Sirius asked.

"Oh yes," said Raina, addressing the room at large. "You're all invited. Only, you'll have to bring a partner or the seating charm will malfunction."

"Gosh, thanks, Raina." Amy looked rather thrilled at the prospect of an invitation to the Crouch Ball. James was less enthusiastic. He'd been to Balls before, and in his experience they weren't much fun. _Still_, he thought, eyeing Lily out of the corner of his eye, _it might be an opportunity_ … judging from her slight frown at Raina's words she didn't already have a partner in mind.

"Are we going to start then?" Blake's voice cut across his thoughts. "Aren't you going to tell us what we're all here for?"

James scowled. It was so typical of Blake to try and control everything.

"Er, yes," said Lily. "Ummm … Potter, perhaps you'd tell them."

James began to feel nervous as every eye in the room fixed on him. "I don't want to do it," he said.

"It was your idea."

"It wasn't!"

"It must have been," said Lily. "Well, it was at least _half_ your idea."

"I tell you what." James had had a sudden flash of inspiration. "I'll make you a deal. Come with me to the Crouches' Ball and _I'll_ tell them about the plan."

Lily gave him a scornful look and jumped to her feet. "Fine, I'll tell them," she said. "Um, well, the thing is ..." Lily took a deep breath, and then charged in. "The problem is that the Death Eaters are going around attacking Muggle-borns, and the Ministry is trying to keep it secret -"

"Attacks? What kind of attacks?" Frank asked, looking anxious.

"Why would the Ministry do that?"

"How do you know all this?"

"James' father works for the Ministry." Lily explained.

"He's Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement," James chipped in. "Hardly anyone knows about it, it's top secret. They're afraid of panicking people. But even with the precautions the Ministry is taking, how can we be certain the Muggle-borns will be properly protected? How can they stay safe if they don't even know they're in danger? We think that something ought to be done about it."

"We should go to the press." Alice said, her cheeks flushed. "They've no right to hush something like this up. We ought to expose them."

"But dad - my dad - will get in trouble if we do." James said. "It wouldn't take them long to find out who'd done it. We need to warn people without drawing attention to ourselves."

"If we make a list of all the Muggle-borns we know we could owl them all." said Peter. "It could be anonymous. No one would know it was us who sent it."

"Owls are traceable," said James. "And the Ministry has stepped up security because of the attacks. Dad said they do random stop and searches of owls sometimes."

"Besides, people don't always take anonymous letters seriously. They might just think it was some idiot out to scare them. It'd be more convincing if we saw them face to face," Lily pointed out.

Clarence Macmillan frowned at her. "That'd take an awful lot of doing," he said. "How many Muggle-borns are there out there? And none of us can Apparate. We can't even do magic out of school. It'll take forever to warn them all."

"But we have to do something. We have to try." Lily's eyes were too bright. "We can't just leave them to get slaughtered."

"I know that," Macmillan said quickly. "It's just, it's a big job and we have to be practical. We're only teenagers. It's not really our responsibility, is it?"

"The people whose responsibility it is are refusing to tell them anything," James pointed out. "If they aren't going to help, we should."

Macmillan sighed. "Yes, but -"

"If you can think of a better way, then say so," Sirius cut across him. The boy opened his mouth, and then closed it again, shrugging.

"I've just thought," said Amy after a moment. "These Death Eaters. They're pretty dangerous aren't they? What if they find out what we're doing? You don't think they'd come after us, do you?"

There was a long silence.

"I don't think so," James said at last. "I mean, like Macmillan said, we're just kids. Why would they take any notice of what we do?"

"I suppose," said Amy doubtfully.

"But we'll need to make sure we're careful," Blake spoke up. "No one had better tell anyone anything about this. Not even your parents." She looked as though she rather relished the thought of such secrecy.

"It _could_ be dangerous," said James slowly. "And it will probably take a long time. If anyone decides they don't want to do it, then we'll understand. But the rest of us are going ahead with it, so if you do decide you want out you can't tell anyone else about this."

"We'll do it," said Frank firmly.

"Yeah." Peter nodded.

"Of course we will," said Sirius scornfully. James looked closely at Macmillan, who shrugged. "All right."

"Then we're all agreed?" asked Lily looking around the room. Everyone nodded.

"Perhaps we should make a list," Remus said, "of all the Muggle-borns we know. We can divide up the names and go around separately to warn them."

"We ought to go in groups," said Macmillan. "If it's likely to be dangerous. It's best not to go walk around Muggle London alone anyhow." James saw him glance at his sister.

"Fine," James said. "If we all find a partner we can do this in twos. Sirius?"

"Sure." Sirius nodded. Peter went with Remus, Lily with Bobbie, and Blake with the boyfriend whose heartiness so offended her friends. Frank teamed up with Bobbie's brother and Amy and Alice stayed together. Remus inscribed all their names at the top of the list.

"Well, then," he said. "List of known Muggle-borns, and their addresses if you have them. I'll pass the list around, if you all fill in what you know."

"If you like we can look through the public records archives in the library. It has most names and addresses of households inhabited by witching folk recorded in it," Bobbie Macmillan offered. Her brother frowned at her.

"Is that legal?" asked Remus.

"It's in a security vault," said Macmillan reluctantly. "But the public have access to it on request."

"Good," said James. "Well, that makes things easier."

The list was passed to him and he jotted down all the names he could remember.

"I'd better get going, if we've finished," said Sirius. "Mother will be at the library at twelve and she'll be out for my blood if she finds I'm not there."

"Wait a minute," said Lily. "We haven't decided when we're going to meet again."

"Or where," said James. "It'll look suspicious if we're always hanging out in the Leaky Cauldron."

"How about the Tech Screptam?" Sirius suggested. "My mother thinks I'm going there anyway. And it sorts out what we'll tell our parents." He grinned. "Homework project."

Bobbie and Lance exchanged glances.

"Well, all right," said Lance unwillingly. "But you'll have to be quiet."

"We could meet in the Adalbert Waffling room," Bobbie suggested. "No one ever goes in there."

"So nine o'clock on Monday morning?" Lily suggested.

Remus bit his lip.

"I can't do Monday." James said loudly. "It's my mother's birthday."

"Oh, all right. Tuesday then."

Remus shot James a grateful look.

"Well, I'll be off again," Sirius said, clapping James on the shoulder. "See you Tuesday."

"'Bye."

"I should go too," said Lily. "My grandmother's staying and my mum will probably go mad if left alone with her too long."

The meeting was breaking off into clusters and heading towards the door. Lily hugged her friends and left, with a vague "see you" over her shoulder to the rest of them.

"She never answered my question," James mused aloud.

Remus gave him an oddly pitying look. "Well, she did give a speech in front of the whole room instead of agree to go out with you. Isn't that an answer?"

"No?" James said hopefully.

Remus shook his head.

"Well, anyway, I'd better go too," James continued. "My mum wants me to buy some stuff for her and I wanted to visit Zonkos."

"Me too," said Peter, who had come up behind them carrying a fistful of money "I'll come with you. Oh, and it's five sickles each for the butterbeer."

"OK," James pulled out his money bag and handed over the coins. "You coming, Moony?"

"No, I said I'd meet my parents here."

"All right. See you Tuesday then."

"Good luck for Sunday night," Peter added, encouragingly.

"Yeah." said James. "Wish we could be there with you."

Remus gave an unconvincing smile. "I know. I'll be fine. See you."

"Do you think it will be dangerous?" asked Peter as they stepped out, blinking, into the bright sunlight of the Leaky Cauldron's back yard. "This warning people thing?"

"Nah," James said. "Like I said, why anyone would care what a bunch of kids are up to? We're meeting in the _library_; we're hardly going to be conspicuous."

He had no idea how wrong he was.


End file.
